


in which patton and logan discuss mirrors

by whimsicaltwine



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 08:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21425104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicaltwine/pseuds/whimsicaltwine
Summary: “Impossible,” Logan breathes, stretching a hand out to touch the surface of the mirror.  It ripples at his touch, the smooth crystalline surface wavering and wobbling, distorting their reflections; Logan’s dark hair, his neat fitted vest, his dark eyes wide with wonder behind the frames of his glasses, and Patton’s rolled-up sleeves, his stained apron, his wilted collar, they all twist and bend in a mesmerizing dance of curving lines and flowing colors.  For a moment, Patton watches him watch it, absorbing the look of amazement that he wears.  He looks so much more alive like this.
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	in which patton and logan discuss mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey folks so this is an entirely random one-shot but I might write more in this au if you think it's cool. You just gotta let me know you like it, so comment! Cool cool let's go

“Impossible,” Logan breathes, stretching a hand out to touch the surface of the mirror. It ripples at his touch, the smooth crystalline surface wavering and wobbling, distorting their reflections; Logan’s dark hair, his neat fitted vest, his dark eyes wide with wonder behind the frames of his glasses, and Patton’s rolled-up sleeves, his stained apron, his wilted collar, they all twist and bend in a mesmerizing dance of curving lines and flowing colors. For a moment, Patton watches him watch it, absorbing the look of amazement that he wears. He looks so much more _ alive _ like this. “It looks like mercury,” he observes, the implied question hanging in the air.

Patton shakes his head, smiling. “It’s still just a mirror. You hit the nail on the head with the whole ‘there’s no way you can change something into something else like that’ thing. I’m an alchemist, not a miracle worker.”

Nodding, assured by the fact that he was right, at least partially, Logan says, “How does it work?” Patton can see that he’s itching for a notebook, or even a pencil and a napkin, anything to record this new information, but Logan stays rooted to the spot, too afraid that he’ll miss his chance if he leaves to fetch something to write with. It’s no matter; Patton’ll be happy to repeat everything for him later.

“Well, magic, at its core, relies on faith. Half of every spell is just _ believing _ it’ll work, and so I’m not really changing the state of the mirror,” he says, sending ripples flowing across the mirror’s surface with a broad sweep of his hand, “so much as convincing the universe that it’s a liquid.” Looking up, he finds Logan’s brow furrowed as he puzzles over the new information.

Logan is a man of logic, of numbers, of clean, precise solutions and tangible things and exact definitions and everything else that allows him to fit things in neat, concrete little boxes, and that’s good; the world needs people like him to categorize and quantify and look at the universe as a matrix of delicately arranged facts. The thing is, magic is abstract, an elusive, undefinable blob of feelings and beliefs that slips out of your hands if you try to grab hold of it too tightly. Patton can feel his way through it, content that he’ll never truly be able to understand it, but Logan? That’s not how his mind works. Patton can see that even more clearly, now, as he tries to wrangle this new information into some semblance of sense.

The only way he’ll be able to save himself from a torrent of questions that don’t have answers and a very, very frustrated Logan is by providing distractions. “Can I see your watch?”

“My watch?” Logan asks, even as he unfastens it from his wrist. With a grin, Patton takes it, feeling how the durable leather is still warm from Logan’s skin, and holds it loosely in his fist above the mirror.

He meets Logan’s eyes. _ “Watch _ this,” he says, and promptly plunges his hand down into the mirror, submerging it nearly up to the elbow. Breaking out of his pun-induced rage in an instant, Logan all but dives beneath the table, looking for some explanation, but twists back up to look at Patton when he realizes his arm has seemingly just disappeared into thin air. The look on his face, some combination of accusation and unrestrained shock, startles a hearty laugh out of Patton, who shifts his grip on Logan’s watch, and then, all at once, lets it go and yanks his arm back out of the mirror, using his other hand to help Logan up off the floor. As he gets to his feet, opening his mouth to ask what is no doubt another question, Logan’s eyes suddenly widen as he catches sight of what Patton’s done; there in the air between them hangs Logan’s watch, warping and wobbling with the movement of the mirror, which is still in chaos from Patton’s sudden movement. “Using mirrors like this is one of Roman’s favorite tricks,” Patton explains as he watches Logan reach out, his hands hovering just shy of his floating, distorted watch. “He uses it to project artwork onto bigger surfaces, or to put them hanging in the air like this. It stops working when the mirror stops moving, and then everything is back to normal.”

“So once you put something through the mirror, it becomes, for a limited time, a reflection of its… reflection, so to speak.” 

“Exactly!”

Bracing his hands on the table, Logan leans forward, his pale hands a sharp contrast to the dark, worn wood. “Does it work with people?”

Patton nods. “Yup! It’s a cool trick, but pretty freaky.”

Scoffing, Logan crosses his arms, saying, “Is that why it hasn’t been used as a method of transportation yet? Because people are _ unsettled _ by it? Because the visual effects are, as you say, “freaky?”

Patton blinks. “Wait, transportation?”

“Of course!” Logan says, giving Patton a perplexed look, as if he can’t quite understand how Patton doesn’t come to the same conclusion he does. “Unless there is a factor I’m not aware of yet, a system of travel using mirrors is perfectly viable. The very nature of mirrors allows images to be viewed across even the most vast distances via a telescope, or transposed around corners, and if any object, including a living creature, can be subjected to this process you have just shown me, than it stands to reason that it can be moved in the same manner as a simple image.” By the time he’s ended his speech, Patton is grinning so much that it almost hurts, his gaze directed solely on Logan, who stands there, neat and proper and entirely unshaken by his idea. It takes him a moment to realize Patton is even looking at him, at which point he nearly jumps as if startled, taken aback. “Patton, are you—“

Before he can finish speaking, Patton lets out an earsplitting squeal, rushing across the room to snatch a clean piece of paper from a shelf. “Logan,” he says, slamming it down on the table so hard that the mirror — and Logan’s watch — tremble, “draw me a schematic.”

The faintest hint of a self-satisfied smile pulls at the corners of Logan’s lips, at his eyes; Patton feels like he’s discovered a treasure. Logan is logic and numbers and definitions, he’s an unmoving fortress, he’s controlled, and he’s a man of things and ideas, not people, but here in Patton’s lab, while he diligently sketches out a blueprint, Patton can finally say that maybe, just maybe, he can sort through all that propriety and find out just what kind of person Logan is. Hopefully, in time, he’ll be able to call him a friend.


End file.
